A little more than 100 years ago, in 1922, a group of Bulgarian intellectuals united around the idea of an annual celebration of the Awakeners. The then Minister of Public Education, Stoyan Omarchevski, helped the initiative to be recognized as state policy and become a law.
This is what Daniel Valchev recalls.
The idea is to have a day in the official calendar dedicated to all those who have contributed to the preservation of the Bulgarian national spirit - from the teacher to the scientist, from the creator of artistic images to the collector of folk songs and legends. The Day of the People's Awakeners was designated as the day on which, according to the church calendar of that time, the Bulgarian Orthodox Church celebrated the heavenly patron of our people, St. John of Rila. Like most Bulgarian holidays, the Day of the People's Awakeners has a complicated fate. It was deleted from the official calendar in 1945 and restored only in 1992.
Noisily admiring the People's Awakeners (and thus unobtrusively admiring their work) is not difficult, but it is undoubtedly prestigious. Some even do it as a profession, repeating the same memorized poster phrases every year. Last night I also felt like writing a few words, although I am aware of the risk that they may sound pathetic or acquire a bitter taste from spilled drops of sadness and anxiety.
But anyway - I sat down to write and here are the words.
To remember history, to value one's language and national culture, means not so much living with one foot in the past as keeping the flame alive. We are talking about that flame that in some miraculous way makes some people French, others Japanese, still others Brazilian, and makes us Bulgarians. And no matter how much we argue, ironize, curse and deny each other, no matter how much we repeat "nice work, but Bulgarian", each of us carries this flame within us.
Where it comes from and why it doesn't go out is a difficult topic, from which even artificial intelligence's machinery will overheat. He would rather wonder how it is possible to maintain this flame at a time when multiculturalism (whatever that means) is praised by globalist elites as a value, when the idea of immortality in the minds of many is no longer associated with God, but has taken the form of a body spiked with chips and pumped with silicone, when people thirsty for constant entertainment have comfortably reclined on the couch of mass culture and are outraged by anyone who dares to offer them some intellectual challenge, emotional stirring or (God forbid) moral dilemma.
So on this day, in addition to the awakening figures whose portraits we know from school corridors and textbooks, let us also remember our grandparents, who told us about their grandparents or at least told us a fairy tale or a wonderful story from the past. Let's remember our teachers, who slowly turned gray with us. Let's remember the writers whose books didn't let us sleep. For the artists, after whose performance we wanted to become like them. For the musicians, whose songs we couldn't get out of our heads. And in general, for everyone because of whom that little flame will never go out.
A bow and Happy Holidays!